


Volume in the Silence

by Geonn



Category: Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Dominance, F/F, Power Imbalance, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Submission, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 08:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pictures are worth a thousand words. Actions are worth so many more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Volume in the Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fourth Annual Femslash Kink Meme prompt "one naked, one fully clothed"

She says yes with the silence where she's not saying no, tacit and complicit as her starched white blouse is unbuttoned. She closes her eyes. She's been wet all night, thinking about this, wanting it. The hands that push her shirt off her shoulders aren't gentle or kind; this won't be lovemaking and that's okay. She can get lovemaking anywhere, any time. What she can't get is Kalinda. She has to push Kalinda, has to fight to be topped, but once Kalinda is over the edge there's no turning back. 

Lana toys with her, like prodding a sleeping predator. Poking it with a stick. Teasing it. Making it impossible to ignore until finally the beast turns on her with flashing teeth and slashing claws and she's terrified that she's gone too far. She opens her eyes and sees Kalinda staring at her, and she can read full manuscripts in those dark eyes.

_Is this what you wanted?_

_Satisfied now?_

Yes, Lana doesn't say.

God yes, she doesn't say.

Kalinda strips her. Lana remains passive as her clothes are tugged, yanked, jerked away from her body. Her watch, discarded like an unnecessary tag. Her panties are tugged until the material protests, nearly ripping and collapsing down her legs. Lana is hot now, her skin burning with wetness between her thighs as Kalinda steps away. Kalinda, in her red jacket, tight skirt that hugs the curves of her hips like a coat of paint, knee-high boots. She reaches into a pocket and withdraws a long thin wand with a bulb on the tip. She holds it out and presses the bulb against Lana's bottom lip. Lana doesn't break eye contact as she orbits it with her tongue and then draws it into her mouth. 

After a few seconds, Kalinda withdraws it with a "pop," and she puts her hand on Lana's shoulder. Spins her. Presses her against the wall so quickly Lana barely has time to get her hands up. She flattens them in front of her shoulders and looks over her shoulder as Kalinda presses against her from behind. The buttons and zippers are cold against Lana's back, and Kalinda runs her hand from hip to the side of Lana's breast, tracing the topography of her ribs before moving down to her ass. She squeezes, slaps, and Lana winces while silently wanting more of that.

Kalinda's foot hits the inside curve of Lana's right foot, then the left, and Lana moves her legs apart. The toy is pressed against it, rubbed length-wise over her entrance. Then the angle of her hand changes, the wet bulb is against her, and Kalinda pushes. Lana sucks in a breath and turns her face to the wall. Her forehead against the wallpaper, she worries her bottom lip with her teeth and curls her fingers. 

Kalinda thrusts. She twists her wrist. She puts her other hand between Lana's shoulders to keep her in place and moves her arm in a mechanically perfect attack. Pushing. Twisting. Her curled index finger and extended thumb press against Lana's folds and she can feel her juices on Kalinda's hot skin with each upward thrust. She knows Kalinda is using her whole body to guide her thrusts now, fucking her against the wall, the material of Kalinda's clothes rough against Lana's shower-smooth flesh.

Their mixed breathing fills the room with huffing, panting, growls, moans. The slap of flesh on flesh, and Lana's cry of orgasm is sharp and jagged as broken glass. The silence that follows is broken by a grunt, and Kalinda withdraws the toy with aching slowness. Lana twitches and spasms as the smooth material brushes hypersensitive flesh and then sighs with loss as it leaves her at last. 

She turns and sees Kalinda cleaning the toy as a cat would clean a paw, idle and businesslike strokes of her tongue. Her eyes are on Lana as she curls her tongue and draws Lana's juices into her mouth, savoring the taste of her. Lana shudders and turns, sagging against the wall, hands crossed at the wrist behind her back as if Kalinda has bound her (no, she hasn't, not this time). 

Kalinda puts the dildo into her pocket as if it's a cell phone and she's finished with her call. Casual insouciance, eyes flat but with hidden fire as she raises her eyebrow as if to say _Are we done?_

Lana wants to scream at her. _Let me fuck you, let me return the favor, let me lay you down and fuck the hell out of you._ But she knows better. Kalinda is wired differently than most people. She doesn't get off on the same things others do. She knows that what just transpired was reciprocal. And she relaxes her shoulders, and Kalinda huffs and looks around like someone deciding she's spent too long at a party.

Lana retrieves a robe and walks Kalinda to the door. They part at the threshold without a goodbye, without a backward glance. Kalinda's hands are in the high pockets of her coat, forcing her elbows out like wings... a bird let loose into the night. Lana doesn't watch her go; she just lets her out and shuts the door behind her.

She rests her forehead against the door just below the peephole, eyes closed, tears threatening to spill. When she sighs, her breath is uncertain and weak. It transforms into speech... two words.

"Oh, Kalinda."


End file.
